


Crashing Down

by MezMoriah



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 06:47:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16035161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MezMoriah/pseuds/MezMoriah
Summary: (Alternate Title: Dante Should Have Listened to Jojo's song, "Little Too Late")Basically, an AU of what could happen between Dante and Lady because they're both dumb (especially Dante).





	Crashing Down

Lady’s tone when she called half an hour ago unsettled him. Normally, when she said, “we need to talk,” annoyance or anger burst forth in every syllable and several curses or name calling followed. He could perfectly picture the scowl settled on her features as she straddled her motorcycle or paced in her apartment. Occasionally, a sadness crept into her tone. But, this mostly happened if she had her mother or what happened in that tower that changed their lives forever on their mind. But, this time, little emotion accompanied her request to come over. Her statement a simple answer to his why. 

Thus, when she entered the shop dressed in a form fitting black dress with heels and makeup on, fingers worrying the clutch in her hands, the demon hunter raised an eyebrow and clenched his jaw to keep it from dropping. She looked gorgeous. She always did, in all honesty, but he rarely saw her in clothing other than her hunting attire. She glowed in that moment, the only thing dampening her radiance was the obvious worry that creased her brow. 

“You come all this way dressed up to ask me on a date or something?” He grinned as the legs of his chair scraped at the wood floor below him. “Well, you’ll have to give me a bit to get ready. I haven’t even showered today.” 

She rolled her eyes, and he swore he saw her lips quiver as she tried not to smile. “Don’t be an idiot. I’m going on a date but not with your sorry ass. And quit staring. I have something I want to tell you, to get your opinion.” 

Dante stopped midstep, hand resting over his heart. “Wha-what? The brilliant, know-it-all Lady needs my advice?” 

“Dante!” Lady stamped her foot, her heel clicking on the wood floor instead of the normal thud her boot would make. “I’m serious! For once, can you cut the crap?” 

“Alright, alright.” He couldn’t help but chuckle as he raised his hand in surrender. “What’s got your probably sexy lace panties in a bunch?” 

The woman remained silent for at least a full minute, bi color eyes staring anywhere except at her hunting partner. “Let me just preface this by saying I know it’s going to seem a little soon...” 

Dante clapped his hand to his mouth. “You’re asking me to marry you?” 

“Dante!” 

“Okay, okay. Go on.” 

She huffed and squeezed her clutch. He figured she was trying her hardest not to chuck it at his head. “You’re on the right topic, at least.” She sucked in a breath and finally met his gaze. “You remember that guy I started seeing, Nick? I brought him over for Christmas to meet all of you?” 

Just hearing his name made him want to roll his eyes. His demon growled in jealousy, possessiveness, but he couldn’t fully blame his devil. He remembered that night clearly. How his mood had tanked all night, that loud, fake laughter he had to perform at the guy’s lame jokes to avoid Lady’s glares. Holding back every nasty comment about his clothes, his stature, his physique, his bland personality, how he didn’t treat Lady exactly how he felt she should be treated. The seventh bottle of whiskey he went through before pretending to be too drunk to function and escaping to his room to lick his wounds and fume. 

“Sure. The dude who forbid you from talking to me when you first started...dating or whatever you want to call it.” His mind was so clouded by his jealousy, he didn’t put two and two together. “Figured you’d dump him for trying to pull that shit.” 

“Dante, I talked to him. He backed off on that. He knows you’re my partner and that we’re close friends.” Another roll of her eyes. “But I didn’t come here to argue with you about this again. The thing is...I think he’s going to propose to me.” 

Though he should have seen it coming, the news sank his heart to the pit of his stomach. It felt like his ribcage was closing around his lungs and trying to puncture them. “Would you say yes?” he croaked before he could stop himself. No, she couldn’t get married. Not to some bland idiot like this Nick guy. And Lady settling down? Starting a family? He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. She had always been the badass demon hunter to him. The beautiful, amazing, compassionate, irresistible demon hunter. 

The question obviously caught her off guard as she blinked and stuttered over how to respond. “Well, yeah. Why wouldn’t I?” 

Dante could list a million reasons. “I dunno...guess it just seems...sudden.” 

“You think it’s too soon?” Her eyes shone as they pleaded with him for guidance. He was the last person she should have this conversation with, knowing his track record. Not to mention he suddenly felt like he needed to vomit on top of the dagger she had metaphorically shoved into him. 

“I’m scared. Really. Me...married.” She laughed, a nervous sound he had never heard come from her. She almost always radiated confidence, and when she didn’t, he helped her build it back up. “But, I really want this. I love him. I’m comfortable with him, and you know that doesn’t ever happen. He accepts me, shitty past and all.” 

A twist of the dagger. She loved him. She loved Nick. She didn’t love him. He swallowed the lump in his throat. Panic settled in and pumped his heart a million beats per second. Fight or flight instincts told him to bolt and bolt quick. But he stood rooted to the spot, eyes darting every which way as his mind processed some kind of response. 

“Cool.” The aggravation in her expression told him that was the wrong response. “I mean...I’m uh, glad you found someone like that. If he makes you happy, I’m happy for you.” 

A lie. A lie that tasted like the bitterest toxin. It wouldn’t kill him. That would be too merciful in that moment. 

Lady’s expression softened, a smile lighting up her features. She threw her arms around him. “Thanks, Dante. It means a lot. Really.” She pulled away. “I need to get going. I’ll tell you how it goes if it happens.” 

He swallowed hard. “Yeah,” he muttered as he back moved toward the door. “Later.” 

\-------------------------------- 

Dante slammed his glass back down on the wooden surface of the bar, signaling to the bartender that he needed his whiskey topped off. Bullseye was fairly empty, especially for a Friday night. The jukebox in the corner crooned out Motley Crue’s “Don’t Go Away Mad (Just Go Away)” over the occasional laughter and muted conversations of the few others around him. While on a normal night he would hardly pay the other patrons much attention, his mind was so entrenched in his memory of his meeting with Lady a few hours before that his general aloofness became complete distraction. 

He brushed his fingers through his snowy locks. If someone asked what he felt in that moment, he wouldn’t know what to tell them because he couldn’t begin to pin his emotions for himself. He was angry, at her, at himself, at Nick. Crushed and broken hearted. He felt stupid. Jealous. Guilty because he knew he should be happy for her. Happy that she would be getting the life she secretly longed for—marriage, a family, stability—but he just couldn’t bring himself to even pretend to be happy. The more he tried, the more it hurt. 

“Yo, Dante. Did you even hear me?” 

Ice blue eyes snapped up to the bartender, an old friend named Frank. A shorter guy with cropped gray-peppered brown hair and a knowledge of liquor to impress even the most refined conisseurs. He claimed that Dante was the reason he was able to keep the place open. That and the fact that it was connected to a seedy strip club. “Sorry. Got a lot on my mind is all.” He swiped up his glass and took a long swig. The burn hardly bothered him anymore. He set the near empty glass back down and watched as Frank refilled the amber liquid. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you had woman problems. And not just the usual ‘they took my money again’ woman problems.” 

“Well, ya ain’t far off the mark,” he sighed, spinning a coaster in his hands before tossing it back on the bar. “Lady might be getting hitched.” 

“Well, good for her,” Frank said, ducking under the bar to grab another few beers for the two guys sitting at the end. “It’s about time she found someone. A few years ago, I would have bet all I have that the two of you would end up together.” 

Though he tried to keep it from his face, he could tell by how Frank balked that he wasn’t successful. He drained the rest of his whiskey. “I don’t know. It’s just...weird. And he’s not right for her. He’s so...plain and normal.” 

Frank shrugged. “Maybe that’s what she wants. You two don’t exactly lead the most normal lives.” He picked up a bottle whose rose-tinted glass twisted like a cyclone all the way up the neck. Some fancy, overpriced vodka by the look of it. He twisted the bottle around to examine the label. “Though it sounds to me like you do wish she was marrying you.” 

Dante didn’t answer right away, and he avoided Frank’s accusing stare in favor of peering into his glass as if it had all the answers. “It’s just...” He breathed out a breath between a sigh and a huff, searching for the right words. “I’ve...been in love with her for a long time. I know I have. But, I know she could never see me that way, and it could never work out between us. I’ve known that for a long time but I still feel shitty about all this. Like I want to be happy for her, I should be happy for her, but I’m not and it feels selfish.” 

He knew he was speaking a mile a minute, jumping from one thought to the next. But, since Frank had given him a chance, every thought he had over the past few hours spewed from his mouth faster than he could shoot his prized pistols. Had it not been for his chuckling, Dante would assume he hadn’t caught a lick of it. 

“What’s so funny?” he barked, swigging the rest of his drink. “I’m a mess over here and all you can do is laugh at my dumb ass?” 

“Well, you got that right: you’re definitely dumb.” Dante flipped the bartender off as he refilled his whiskey. “If you loved her, why the hell didn’t you just tell her?” 

“It’s complicated.” He thought she hated him. He knew she could never truly love someone who was half the creature she sought to rid the world of. He assumed she wanted to keep their relationship as professional as possible. He was basically a manifestation of trash who thrived on sex, pizza, strawberry sundaes, booze, and killing demons. While she could defend herself, he had a glowing target on his back with incandescent arrows pointing at him and screaming, “SON OF THE TRAITOR, SPARDA.” Anyone he brought into his life would be put in danger, and he could never live with himself if something happened to her because he wasn’t there. He couldn’t let that happen again. He had been too weak, too young the first time. He wouldn’t let someone else be killed because of him or his heritage if he could help it. 

“I doubt she feels the same,” he finally settled on. He stared down into the amber liquid in the glass. “I doubt she could feel the same. I’m a mess. She deserves better than me, anyway.” 

But even I’m better than Nick. 

Frank’s sigh raised his gaze again. “Well, if that’s how you feel. Never took you to be the type with confidence issues considering how often I see you leaving with a woman on your arm.” He topped Dante’s glass off one last time. “Give yourself time. You’ll sort out your shit and be back to normal before you know it.” 

Dante nodded and finished off his drink. His chest still weighed a thousand pounds. “Thanks, Frank.” He tossed money on the bar with a generous tip. “I’ll see you around.” 

He pushed open the door of the bar and headed out into the balmy evening air. He considered going next door to Love Planet. Watch some girls take their clothes off while slinging back shots that wouldn’t really affect him for at least another hour. Flirt with scantily clad waitresses and take one home. Drown his sorrow and self-pity the way she had for the last few decades. Pretend he had never spoken to Lady or that the conversation didn’t leave him feeling utterly idiotic and empty. But his feet had a different idea and lead him back to his door, the neon sign above bathing the area in a pink glow. 

Inside, he flipped on the light and dragged his arms out of his coat. He tossed it on the hook and trudged over to the couch. He splayed out, feet jutting out over the edge and his arm dangling over the side. The fan spinning above him didn’t do much to ward off the night’s heat, but he hardly cared. His mind was too busy replaying Lady’s visit to fathom any discomfort. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he drew it out. A text from Trish about a job for him tomorrow. One she no doubt felt was beneath her, so she pawned it off on him. His eye was drawn to the time. 2:17 in the morning. He hadn’t realized he had been out so long. Lady would be home by now, probably sharing her bed with Nick. He could see her wrapped in his arms as he fucked her, hear her moaning his name as her nails dug into his acne-covered back, a rock the size of her fist on her left hand. 

He should tell her how he felt. Let it all out there. He could call her now and confess his love for her. Tell her it’s always been her he wanted. Her he wanted more than anything else in the world but he didn’t have the balls to tell her. He feared for her and feared that she couldn’t love him but he didn’t care about that anymore. He loved her, and no one could keep her safe better than him. 

Before he knew what he was doing, he had scrolled through his few contacts and hit the green “call” button beneath Lady’s name. It rang twice. What was he doing? He wasn’t even drunk and he was acting like some idiot who got wasted and called his ex. He moved the phone from his ear and started to tap the “end” button when the ringing buzz ended, replaced but a soft but somehow beautiful sigh. 

“Dante?” He hadn’t even placed the speaker back to his ear, frozen in place. Her voice was heavy with sleep; she had been out for a few hours. Maybe Nick wasn’t there after all. Maybe she told him no and sent him packing. His heart soared in a renewed hope for a second, unfreezing his stone limbs. 

“Dante, if this is a joke, it isn’t funny. I’m trying to sleep.” 

He placed the device back to his ear. “No, no. Don’t hang up.” He sucked in a breath as he heard the grumble of a male voice, jaw clenching as he made out something along the lines of, “are you kidding me? Hang up on him. It’s almost three in the morning, babe.” 

Lady ignored him. For now. “Then, what do you want? Not all of us can survive on a few hours of sleep and naps throughout the day.” 

“I...” He paused. He couldn’t tell her. Not with that fucker so close to her. Probably listening like the creep he was. “Can you come over?” 

“Now? Seriously, Dante?” Her voice had softened, though, the sound soothing him. She could sense his distress. His voice lacked the bravado it normally possessed no matter how hard he tried to sound normal. “Can it wait until tomorrow?” 

No, he had to do it now. If he waited, he would lose his nerve. “It’s urgent, Lady. I wouldn’t ask this of ya if it wasn’t important.” 

Another sigh, the shift of springs. A protest from her bed mate. “Promise me it will be quick. I’ll be there soon.” 

He clicked the phone off and returned it to his pocket. Common sense told him this whole thing was stupid. Ridiculous and juvenile. But he just...had to tell her. Get it off his chest. Maybe she felt the same after all. Maybe she had been waiting for him to tell her this after all these years because she didn’t know how to say it herself. Maybe he would ditch Nick and he his. Maybe... 

He was getting ahead of himself. One step at a time. He needed to control his hopes, but, as the sound of a car parking up front and boots climbing the stairs reached his ears, he knew he was failing miserably at it. His heart beat picked up a hundred-fold as he stood up and watched her walk in the door. 

“So, what’s so important that you had to drag me out of bed at two in the morning?” Her short, raven locks were disheveled from sleep, and she hadn’t bothered to change out of the shorts and tank top she wore to bed (though she did take the time to put on a bra, much to his dismay). She wore her usual boots, which to some would look horrendous, but to Dante, she looked like a goddess standing there. He was only snapped back to his mission when she yawned and raised her left hand to cover her mouth. The light glinted off the diamond and he swallowed a lump in his throat. 

"There's something I gotta tell you. I needed to a long time ago but I was too chicken.” He studied her face as she quirked a brow in question. He rememorized every detail from the shape of her crimson and blue eyes, the pearlescent scar across her nose, the rosy tint of the full lips he longed to plant his on. He rested his hands on her shoulders. 

“Lady...I...I love you.” 

He couldn’t read her face in that moment. It flashed from surprise to confusion to annoyance and cycled through each emotion in rapid succession. Her lips parted and closed several times as she searched for the right words to say. 

“W-what?” 

“I love you.” He spoke more firmly this time. The words felt so natural. Tasted better than anything on his tongue. He felt drunk on the emotion in that moment, high on the decades old weight lifted from his shoulders. 

“Dante...how? Why?” Before he could tighten his grip on her, she slipped away from him and took a few steps backward. His high crashed and burned as he saw unshed tears shine in her eyes. His heart felt heavy again, and his throat closed off. He felt as though his muscles would fail him at any second. 

“Lady, I had to tell you. Finally get it off my chest. I’ve felt this way forever and--” 

“No.” She held up her hand and shook her head. Her tears escaped her eyes and trailed down her cheeks. Her voice trembled. “No. No no. You can't do this to me, Dante. Not now.” 

Lady stepped back to the door and his body lurched forward of its own accord. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and held fast. “Please, Lady. Just hear me out. You mean the world to me and I wish I had told you sooner but-” 

“But you had to wait until someone else showed up? Until I gave up on you and tried to start my life? A halfway normal life?” 

He could feel his heart ripping itself to shreds as a mocking voice chanted, “You’re too late” over and over in his head. His grip slackened, and she took full advantage of it, ripping her hand from his grip. He swallowed and fought his own tears. Whoever would have thought a woman would ever make him feel so low or make him cry? 

“Lady...” 

“Save it, Dante.” She scoffed and swiped her hand beneath her eyes, over her cheeks, clearing them of tears. She coughed out a short laugh, the sound bitter and too high. “What did you expect to happen when I got here? That I would just give up everything and get with you?” Her hands balled into fists at her sides. 

“I waited too long for you, Dante...I’m getting old. I couldn’t, wouldn’t wait forever.” 

He was paralyzed. She was right. Had he really expected that? That this would end like a fairy tale? He knew better; his life was the exact opposite. How could he possibly expect a happy ending? 

His emotions went into damage control mode. He went numb. He shut off his anger. His sadness. His regret. He was a monster, he reminded himself. Monsters didn’t love, and they certainly didn’t deserve love. 

“You’re right.” He finally managed. He brushed his fingers through his hair and turned his back on her, ignoring her sniffle and choked sob. “I’m sorry for bringing you over here. Go get some sleep.” 

Dante lowered himself on the couch and closed his eyes. “I gotta get to bed myself, anyway. Early job.” He fought the urge to open his eyes when he didn’t hear her move immediately. To run over and scoop her into his arms. To kiss her and beg her to be with him. Or at least not to hate him for being so stupid all these years and only just now getting the nerve to tell her. His fingers curled around the bottom of the couch to keep him latched to the leather cushions. 

He heard her sigh, a shuddering sound. “Goodnight, Dante.” 

Finally, boots cleared the rest of the wood floor to the door. He winced as it creaked open and clicked shut. Blue eyes opened to stare at the ceiling, filled with bitter tears. He felt as though everything in him had been sucked out of him, a mere shell lying abandoned on his couch. But the pain...he could still feel that. And it hurt worse than any sword thrust through his guts.

**Author's Note:**

> So...I fought with myself to even post it. It started out as me working through my emotions through Dante and Lady and kept going. Thus, this has a bit of personal flavor to it, and it took me a bit to even convince myself to finish it or make it anything postable in the first place. So, here's my emotional drivel as I try to cope with my own bad decisions and cowardice.


End file.
